


A Little Extra Help

by Aladin_Sane



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Caretaker Logan, Charles just wants to help, M/M, Pietro is a little shit, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tumblr Prompt, dadneto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:39:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aladin_Sane/pseuds/Aladin_Sane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is failing several classes and struggles with controlling the hyperactive urges that come with his powers. Xavier decides that Logan is the teacher who'll help him the most</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From tragickaneki “rebellious teenager who’s failing all their classes is assigned a studious tutor” except Logan's a teacher, not a tutor.

“Logan? Can I see you in my office please?” Charles’ voice rings clearly through Logan’s head. He sounds stressed out but patient, so Logan knows he’s dealing with “Headmaster Stuff.” Not wanting to make things worse for himself, Logan immediately makes his way to the office to see what’s going on. 

He knocks once and immediately afterwards the door swings open with a blur of silver and the maroon of the school uniform. “Hey, Professor Logan!” Peter Maximoff greets with a smile before flitting to the other side of the room by the window. 

“You couldn’t warn me that you had him in here?” Logan says to Charles, who shrugs noncommittally. 

“Logan, take a seat. Pietro, please, sit down, would you?” Charles sounds exasperated, which isn’t a surprise. Peter’s a great kid, he’s just a lot to handle.   
Peter’s in the chair, leaning back lazily and twiddling his thumbs anxiously next to Logan. 

“What’s the deal, Charles? What’d he do? And why am I involved?” Logan asks, slightly glaring at Peter who shrugs innocently, even though he’s hardly ever as innocent as he pretends to be. 

“Well, Pietro, as you know, you are failing several of your classes. I thought it would be appropriate to assign you a tutor who could, perhaps, help you learn to control your abilities,” Charles explains, looking at Peter politely. 

“Learn to control? Charles, I’ve got this down. I have no problems with my powers!” Peter replies, flitting around the room and meddling with different papers and such.   
“This is what I mean. You need to be able to get through a conversation without getting distracted. That’s why you’re failing your classes. Anyways, back to the idea of the tutor-”  
“I know this kid, just started but he really knows his stuff. You’ll know who he is Charles, maybe he can help. Black hair, brown eyes,” Logan offers, cutting off Charles before he could finish. 

Somewhere behind Logan, Peter pipes up. “Hey, I don’t need-” There’s a loud thump before he can finish. When Logan turns to face him, he sees Peter on his knees on the floor, held in place by Charles’ control over him. His mouth is shut tightly and his brows are furrowed, expressing his discontent even without his voice. 

“Anyways, if you’re both done interrupting me.” Charles gives each of them a pointed look before continuing. “Logan, since you are the one who brought Peter to this school, I think it’d be fitting if you are the one to help him with his studies. Now, you’re both going to go to Logan’s classroom and get to work. I’ll be checking in on your improvement, Peter.” 

“Charles, I don’t exactly have time for this. Isn’t there another teacher who could help?” Logan glances at Peter. “Maybe one with a bit more patience than me?” Peter makes a muffled sound of agreement from his place on the floor. 

“No. I’ve made my decision and it’s final. Now, both of you go, I have other matters to attend to.” 

Peter’s back on his feet and right next to Charles in the next instant. “Look, Headmaster, Logan and I don’t exactly get along. And you always say I have lots of potential, I’ll just do that and not have any extra help.”

“Pietro Maximoff, you can not and will not talk me out of this. Besides, this will be good for both of you. Peter needs to learn discipline and Logan needs to learn patience.”

“That’s Professor Logan, Peter. Now, let’s go get started.” Logan smiles politely and drags Peter out by his uniform blazer. 

Once they’re out in the hall, Logan loses the smile and let’s go of Peter, who walks beside him. “How do we get out of this, Logan?”

“That’s Professor, kid. And you’re gonna figure your shit out and I’m gonna move on.” 

“Look, Log- Professor, I know that I’m not exactly your favorite student, but shouldn’t we at least pretend? I’ll come hang out in your classroom after school and you can ignore me for awhile and then we’ll just move on. Charles will never know otherwise. Sound fair?”

“Fine. But I have rules.” Logan sighs and opens the door to his room, holding it open for Peter. 

“Yeah? So you’re one of those teachers…” The student makes a face of disgust and drops his blazer over the edge of a desk. He drops into a chair and props his feet up on the desk, loosening his tie. 

Logan has to admit, he’s a very attractive young man. And it’s not that he’s ever disliked Peter, who possibly could? Logan just does things his way and likes things stable, but Peter is hates stability and thrives off of chaos. Logan’s been in enough wars to know the danger of chaos. 

“Get your feet off my desk, for starters. You already know that one. If I can hear your music, it’s too loud. No food, I don’t want ants. Water only. Don’t rearrange the desks. If anything illegal happens in this room, I will personally rip you to shreds.” 

When he looks over, Peter’s got one of his old World War II helmets balancing on his head. He looks tiny and Logan can’t help but sigh, trying to hide his grin. 

Peter, however, grins arrogantly at him and gives a solute. “Aye aye, Captain. I can sit here and be good and quiet, you can count me.” 

Logan grabs the hat and puts it back on the shelf, lightly hitting the back of Peter’s head as he does so. “I doubt that. Oh, and don’t stash your stolen shit in here either.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Professor Logan. Make any students cry today?” Peter asks, dropping his bag on the floor and laying over Logan’s desk, right on top of the papers he’d been grading.

“Get off my desk, Maximoff. This is a classroom, not a shrink’s office,” the man says with a sigh. 

“So I was thinking today-”

“Thinking? Careful, Peter, you don’t want to overwork yourself.” Logan drags his hand down his face and leans back in his chair, looking firmly at the teen lounging on his work. 

“Rude. What’s your last name?” 

“Howlett.”

“So, you should be Professor Howlett? Where’d Logan come from?” Peter tilts his head to look at his teacher, still not moving from his spot. 

“I thought the arrangement was that you sat quietly over there and let me work.”

“Well, it was. But I’m really bored. And I still haven’t found the right way to ‘unlock my potential’ whatever that means. So, until then, I have nothing to do.” 

“You could start by getting off my desk,” Logan suggests. 

Peter’s standing by the window a split second later, looking out over the courtyard and the other students using their powers freely in the fresh air. “How come the other students get it when I don’t? Am I doing something wrong?” he asks, his voice uncaring and nonchalant. 

“What was that?” Logan, who’d gone back to grading, looks up, only to find Peter rummaging through his closet on the other side of the room. 

“Is this all your stuff? Man, you’re old as dirt!” The boy’s voice is muffled from his head being stuffed in the closet. All Logan can see his his feet, one foot lifted into the air to reach in further. “I bet you’re even older than the Headmaster, and I’m pretty sure he went to school with Jesus.” 

Logan grins a bit, turning back to his work. “Time goes by faster than you think, kid. You’re what? 17? You’ll be graduating pretty shortly.”

Suddenly, Peter’s right beside him, leaning against the edge of the desk. “Actually, no. If I keep failing my classes, I’ll get held back a year. And if that happens, I’ll probably just change schools because it’ll be embarrassing.” Logan feels a slight breeze. “Hey, what’s this?” 

Peter stands up out of the closet, holding a katana that he’d just unsheathed. “Put that down before you hurt yourself,” Logan sighs, turning back to the papers he desperately wants to finish. 

There’s a clatter and Peter hisses quietly before laughing a bit. “Too late,” he says unapologetically, cradling one hand against his body. 

“Do you even know how to handle a weapon?” 

“You’re my combat teacher, you tell me.” 

“I just assumed you didn’t pay attention because you already knew.” Logan sits back in his desk and looks up at Peter, who’s closing the closet doors. 

“I don’t pay attention because your class is boring,” he scoffs, making Logan scowl. 

“Do you want to be failing another class?” he warns intimidatingly. 

“A) I’m already failing your class and B) I thought it was against the rules to grade students based on your relationship with them? Because if it /isn’t/ against the rules, I could just start giving blowjobs for passing grades.” Peter sits back on the top of a desk and grins. “And if I could do that, I certainly wouldn’t be here.” 

Logan thinks for a moment about whether that means Peter’s implying he’s been giving blowjobs to teachers just for the fun of it, or if he’s implying that he would. Instantly, he shakes the idea out of his head and stands up from his desk. 

“Show me where you’re hurt,” he says, carrying his first aid kit over to Peter, who holds out his arm for Logan to see. 

“How’s it look, Doc?” he asks while Logan inspects the cut on the palm of his hand. 

“You’ll be fine. For somebody who doesn’t do any combat, you sure have beat up hands,” he comments off-handedly. 

“Yeah, it happens when I run.” Peter closes his eyes and grits his teeth as Logan starts treating the cut with alcohol. “Sometimes when I touch stuff, I’m going so fast that my hands get bruised or cut.” He sits still for a second while Logan bandages his hand before talking again. “Can you hurry it up?”

“Impatient?” 

“I don’t like to be in one place for too long,” Peter responds. 

“Why?” Logan asks curiously, glancing up at the kid. 

“I dunno. Charles always says that things are different from me. He says it’s agony to be in my head and he isn’t wrong.” Peter smiles as if what he said held hardly any meaning. 

Logan gives him a look that’s a mix of concern and confusion. “Everything okay, Peter?” he asks. 

“Yup. Thanks for fixing my hand.” Then he’s at Logan’s desk, rifling through his papers. 

“Peter, please, you can’t look at other students’ grades,” Logan pleads, walking over exasperatedly. 

“Ha! Mark’s failing? Good for him, I always knew he was a dumbass,” Peter chuckles to himself, propping his feet on Logan’s desk and reading the essay Mark had written. “Did he really just say that World War One happened in the 1870s? What an idiot!”

“Well, Peter, you wrote that George Washington was alive during the Civil war.” 

“Yeah, but people expect Mark to know stuff. I’m just living up to expectations at this point.”

“Let’s go teach you something. You don’t know how to hold your own in a fight. Do you understand how dangerous that is?” Logan offers, unsure of what else to do. 

I can run fast. That’s how I deal with my problems. Do you know how many people can punch you when you’re as fast as me?” Peter grins arrogantly. 

Logan grabs his arm and drags him over the desk, his claws lightly grazing the boy’s neck. “There will always be somebody with faster reflexes than you. And there will always be somebody stronger than you. Try to get away now, before I kill you,” he says firmly. 

Peter’s body becomes a blur as he tries to run away and the friction from him trying to yank his arm away leaves a burning sensation on Logan’s hand. This continues for a good minute or so before Peter gives up, panting lightly at the effort. 

“You can’t, can you?” Logan asks and Peter shakes his head, his chest still heaving a bit. “And that’s why you need to know what you’re doing. Let’s go practice.” He lets go of Peter’s arm and the teen falls back, grinning a bit. Logan’s instantly suspicious. “What? Why are you giving me that look?” 

Peter stands and claps his arm on Logan’s shoulder, his grin growing. Instead of responding he just presses Logan’s wallet into his chest. “I’m really good at stopping people from killing me and stealing their stuff simultaneously.” Peter walks out of the room, shouldering his bag and smirking to himself. “By the way, you have to renew your licence pretty soon,” he calls nonchalantly over his shoulder. 

“What a little shit.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m kinda starting to get worried about him, Chuck. He’ll say really… painful things and then zip across the room like it doesn’t matter. And it isn’t like there’s much I can do to help him, he doesn’t like to listen. He refuses to sit still. It’s no wonder he’s failing all his classes, he can’t even finish a single assignment.” 

Logan didn’t mean to find himself ranting to Charles in his office, but good God he couldn’t stop himself. Besides, he’s a teacher now. It’s his job to worry over his students, especially ones he’s known as long as he knows Peter. 

“What would help you?” Charles asks, wheeling his chair around his desk and towards Logan. 

“I dunno. Maybe if I could understand him I could actually help him.” 

Charles grins. “So, you want to help him now? Because when I briefly checked your thoughts at our last meeting I distinctly remember you deciding not to go through with it.”   
Logan rubs the back of his neck. “I checked Peter’s files. Don’t tell me I’m not supposed to because I don’t want to hear it.” Logan drops into the chair and looks at Charles. “If I’d known the whole ‘Pentagon’ thing would get him kicked out of his own house, I never would have asked him to do it.” 

“You shouldn’t be doing anything out of sympathy, Logan. The last thing the boy needs is mindless pity. I can help you if you promise not to be doing this out of sympathy.” Charles gives him a pointed look, a promise that he’ll know if Logan lies. 

Logan nods and leans forward. “Peter needs somebody looking out for him and I want to do that.” 

“Alright, then. I’m going to channel you into his mind so that you can understand how his mind works. I think he’s in Philosophy with Hank right now.” 

Before Logan can blink, he’s sitting near the back of McCoy’s classroom, staring out the window. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. The branches on the trees outside ripple slowly, the scratching of pencils seems to take far longer than what it should take to jot down notes. Hank’s voice drawls on forever, to the point where it’s impossible to even tell what he’s saying anymore. The only thing that balances it out is Peter’s long, thin fingers tapping on the edge of the table steadily, the sound ringing out each second. 

“Maximoff, can you stop?” the kid next to him hisses quietly. It takes Logan awhile to piece together what’s being said. Everything’s so damn slow, Logan feels like his mind is crumbling because of the agonizing pace the world is travelling at. 

Peter stops and it’s like being stranded out at sea. There isn’t even the steady tapping to hold onto, just the world swimming by so slowly it’s almost impossible to tell what’s going on. In both his ears and through Peter’s, Logan hears Charles over the school’s intercom. 

“Pietro Maximoff, please come down to my office. Thank you,” he says. 

Peter’s head snaps up at the sound of his name and he stands (at normal speed, thank God) and hurries up to Hank, who grabs him by the shoulders and gives him a stern look. 

“Peter, what’d I tell you about using your powers?” 

“Look, I gotta go talk to Headmaster because he called me down. I’ll see you later, Hank.” It sounds normal to Logan, and he’s actually pretty proud of Peter for not buzzing with hyperactivity. 

That is, until Hank says, in that horrible slow motion, “Peter, I told you to slow down. I can’t understand you when you do that… buzzing.” 

Peter nods and says back, working hard at mimicking the slowness of the world around him, “Sorry, sir. But I have to go talk to the Headmaster.” 

Hank nods and lets him leave. As soon as he shuts the door behind him, Peter walks casually down the halls. Logan wants to cry at how fantastic it feels to be doing /something/ at a normal speed. Right before Peter reaches the door, Charles drags Logan out of the boy’s head and puts him back in his own. Peter’s sat next to him before he can blink, his feet up on the desk and his hands locked behind his head. 

“Hey, Headmaster, hey Professor. What’d ya need?” he asks, giving them both a somewhat smug smile. 

“Hello, Pietro. I was just giving Logan a glimpse into your mind so he could see how you perceive things.”

“Yeah, I could feel you poking around in there! Let me show you something crazy!” There’s a wild sparkle in his eyes, and Charles sighs before channelling Logan back into the teen’s mind. 

Peter runs out to the courtyard where the fountain is spraying slowly and hops right into the pool. His feet hit the surface of the water and he pushes off of it easily. He spends a few minutes spinning around under the water spouting around him and dodging the water droplets. Not once do his feet push into the water, just skimming along the surface. 

Light dances out of each droplet, leaving rainbows only Peter (and anyone in his mind) can see. It’s suddenly very easy to understand the teen. His world is so full of beauty that nobody else will be able to see, even something simple and pointless is an object of wander in Peter’s eyes. But he can’t really share it and he’s always having to drag himself down so other people can understand him. 

Charles pulls Logan back out of his mind and Peter’s back in the office, still totally dry but with his hair all mussed up. 

“Damnit,” Logan breathes, leaning back in the chair. 

Peter just grins at him and sits down next to him. “So, is that all you called me in for?” he asks. “Do I have to go back to class?” 

Logan can’t stop staring at the kid. He’s incredibly proud of Peter for containing all the energy inside of him as well as he does. He makes a mental note to never make Peter sit still again, because it’s definitely a struggle for him and Logan doesn’t want to make things even harder for him. 

Peter glances back at him. “You falling in love over there, Professor?” he asks teasingly. 

Logan coughs and cracks a grin mirroring Peter’s. “With you? Never,” he laughs, trying not to stumble over the words.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the huge delay with this chapter! It seriously kicked my butt, but I think it turned out okay.

“That’s all really cute and sweet, Peter, but you do realize that Prof. Logan is your teacher, right?” Hank sighs, trying to focus on cleaning his beakers. 

“You think I don’t know that? That doesn’t change how I feel.” Peter throws one of the beakers up into the air a few times, his eyebrows knitted together in thought. 

After spending all this time with Logan, and having the guy inside of his mind, something changed for Peter. He’s started seeing the professor differently, having feelings he’d never had before. Hank McCoy seemed like the only person he could talk to about this without getting judged or having his feelings be told to every classmate nearby. 

“Maybe you just have a fetish?” Hank suggests. 

Peter scrunches up his face. “Hmmm. Nah, I don’t think that’s it. It feels like more than that,” he replies, shaking his head. 

“Than maybe it’s a gratitude thing. Because of him helping you with school, you feel you owe him and your brain is misinterpreting your gratefulness as love?” 

“I didn’t even fully understand that.” Peter tosses the beaker up again but ends up leaning over Hank’s table before it can come back down. “How do I know that’s not what’s going on?” he asks as the beaker shatters against the floor. 

“Did you break another- Peter, this has to stop. You need to control yourself,” Hank says. “And I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“That’s shitty. I wanna know now.” 

“Even if you did know for sure that you love him, how do you know Logan loves you back? He’s not exactly the ‘fall in love’ type.” 

“I’m cute! I’m charming! I’m a joy to be around!” Peter protests. 

“Sure, whatever. What about the teacher thing? Even if you’re both wildly in   
love, riding off into the sunsets and all that, you can’t be together. He’s an authority figure to you, so your relationship could get you both in trouble.” 

“Hank, neither of us are strangers to trouble and you know it.” 

“He’d be fired and you’d be expelled,” Hank says nonchalantly. 

Peter huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He paces slowly, humming to himself as he goes. “What if I quit school?”

“Are you kidding me? Please tell me you’re kidding me.”

“No, no, think about it. Then he won’t be an authority figure and there’s nothing Charles can do about it.”

“You can’t just quit school. How many other mutant schools do you know about?”

“Logan, Charles, Erik, they all managed!”

“Is Erik really a role model for you?” 

“That’s beside the point.”

“What if Logan says no? What if…” Hank trails off when he feels the burst of air. “Peter?” he asks, looking around slowly to see where the speed demon vanished to. When he realizes he’s alone, he just turns back to his work. 

“Hank, are you in here?” Logan asks from the door. 

“Wish I wasn’t,” Hank grumbles, dropping his head into his hands. How did he get dragged into this tangled little mess? Why him?

“I’ve gotta talk to you about something,” Logan says, sitting across the lab table from Hank. “What’re you working on?”

“Just messing around. If it’s Peter you wanted to talk about, he just left. FYI.” Hank looks at him over the rims of his glasses. 

“Peter was in here? Why? I thought he was banned from the labs?” 

“I won’t tell Charles if you don’t.”

“As if Charlie doesn’t already know,” Logan laughs. Aiming for casual, he picks up a beaker and rolls it between his hands. “What’d Peter want?” 

“To talk. About you.”

“Me? What’d he say?” 

“Depends. What do you want?”

Logan grins. “To talk. About him,” he says, mimicking Hank’s tone. 

“Alright, Logan, go ahead and spill. There is nothing you can say that can phase me.” 

“So, I’ve been spending more and more time with the kid. Charles’ orders, not my choice. But, uh, the more time I spend with Peter…”

“The more you like being with him. Yeah, that’s what he said too. You two are lovebirds in separate cages. Very romantic. But you know Charles would have to fire you.”

“Yeah, Hank, I know. Where is Peter now? I should go shut this down.” 

“I think he went to talk to Charles. He wants to quit school.”

“Quit? Why?” 

“So you won’t be his teacher anymore. He’s a romantic, apparently,” Hank says, leaning back from cleaning the beakers and rubbing his temples. 

“Are you stressed out or something, kid?”

“Yeah. You and Peter stress me out. Just go find him and talk to him yourself.”

“What should I tell him? I don’t want to hurt him, but he can’t quit school.”

“Well, you’ll just have to tell him not to quit school and then act entirely uninterested. You’re a teacher, you need to keep this professional, understood?” 

“Yeah, I’ll go find him.” Logan rubs the back of his neck. “Thanks, McCoy.”

“It’s no problem, Logan. Maybe you can try again after he graduates.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the huge delays. I really appreciate the comments that have been coming though! They're what inspired me to keep adding more. Let me know what you think!

Logan did not mean for things to work out the way they did. He'd made some bad mistakes, horrible mistakes, throughout his life. He'd gotten too drunk, said the wrong things, killed the wrong people. Or D, all of the above. But this, this was a whole new level of mistake. He awkwardly threw his blankets over his legs. 

Oh yeah.

This was a huge mistake. 

He looks down at Peter, naked and asleep and all but glowing in the sunlight that shines through Logan's bedroom window. For once, the boy looks totally relaxed. He doesn't tremble or tap his fingers or even move at all. In his dreams, the world catches up with Peter. He's not too fast, he doesn't have to hold himself back anymore. 

Seeing it sends a pang of... something... shooting through Logan's body. It's some type of joy mixed with guilt. Where had he gone wrong? He called Peter over to try and put a stop to this whole ordeal, but that kid has the most dazzling eyes and enchanting smile that Logan's ever seen. Logan runs one of his thick hands through the tangled mess of Peter's hair. 

Charles is so going to kick his ass.

Even though it pains him, he knows he has to stop this. Peter wakes up slowly, his lips smacking and his body bending as he stretches. Fluffy gray hair hangs over thick brown eyes as he blinks tiredly up at Logan. 

"Sleep well?" Logan asks. Damnit. He hadn't meant to sound so loving, but that kid drags the worst (best?) out of him. 

"I've never been so tired before," Peter admits, yawning tiredly. "So what're we going to tell Headmaster?"

"Theres nothing to tell." Logan pulls his hand away from Peter's hair. It takes all of his strength to drag himself out of the bed. "It's for Peter" he thinks on repeast as he sits by the window and lights a cigar. 

The teen sits up in bed, his hair fluffed around his head like a halo. "Lo, he's a mind-reader. He's going to figure out what's going on between us."

Logan stays quiet. He knows what he has to say. He can't though, he doesn't want to. Instead, he watches as Peter pulls Logan's flannel around his thin shouldrs. The edges of it brush against his pale thighs as he stands uneasily by the bed. Logan takes the brief opportunity to let himself be happy. 

He imagines waking up ot this every morning, sharing kisses and brushing that soft hair out of Peter's face. His own thoughts surprise him. When was the last time he'd been so sappy and romantic? But no, Peter's young and beautiful with so much potential and Logan's too old and angry for someone so angelic. He holds back a laugh. Who would've thoguht he'd ever be caling Peter Maximoff angelic?

"Whataya mean 'there's nothing to tell'? Of course there is! Headmaster should know that one of his teachers is in a relationship with a student." Peter looks so confused. Logan wants to kiss it all away, but the worst is yet to come. 

"Pete, we're not in a relationship."

"We're not? But, yesterday-"

"You think that just because we slept together we're gonna get married or something?" Just saying the words makes Logan's skin crawl. ForPeterForPeterForPeter.

"Well, not married. I thought we'd at least be together."

"Haven't you ever heard of a one-night-stand?"

Logan feels like a monster as he watches Peter's face fall. THe teen shifts from foot to foot, fingers fumbling with the buttons of Logan's shirt. It'd felt so warm when he'd put iton, but now it burns. His cheeks burn with it, pink from embarrassment. How could he have been so naive? He's known Logan for years now, he knows that Logan doesn't really care about relationships. 

"Don't you have class?" Logan asks, looking out the window to avoid having to see Peter suffer anymore. "Your uniform's by the door."

Peter feels stupid. He gets dressed quickly, hating himself a little bit more with each article of clothing. He doesn't even remember the last time he was this upset. Was it when he came home to find out his mom had changed all the locks? Or was it when he realized he wasn't going to graduate? His fingers trip over themselves as he struggles with the knot of his striped tie. 

"See you in class, Pete," Logan calls. He's not quite sure if he's heard though, because the room is empty in the blink of an eye. And that's the last that Logan sees of him for a few weeks. 

Peter stops coming to class, stops finding Logan in the hallways between classes. He even stops eating in the cafeteria. If Logan didn't know any better, he'd think the kid had uprooted and gone missing. He knows better, though. 

Every day at the start of class, all the day's assignments are piled neatly in the center of his desk. "Peter M." is always scrawled along the top of it in that odd, messy handwriting. Each assignment is a little bit better written, a few more right answers than the last. Peter flies to the top of the class without stepping foot in the room. Logan almost would have been proud if he didn't feel so guilty about it.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a short chapter this time because I'm sincerely hoping to add another one soon. This is kind of a lame chapter, it's mostly exposition and transition. 
> 
> I should also mention that I don't have a clear plan for this story, so if anybody has any ideas let me know in the comments! All of the amazing comments I've been receiving have been so wonderful, I would've abandoned this story without it.

"Logan, have you seen Peter recently?" Charles had rolled up behind him while he'd been rummaging thorugh the papers on his desk. 

"No, I was about to come to you about that. I didn't get his homework today. I might have misplaced it, though."

Charles' face controted into something that was part, part confusion. "Let me get this straight. You're only worried because you didn't recieve any homework from him? You're not even slightly worried about the fact that he's been missing for almost a week?"

Logan froze. "Missing? He's not missing. I've been getting his classwork! He's probably just sick in his room. Or cutting class again. You know how he gets."

"Do you really think I wouldn't have checked already? He's nowhere in the school. Nowhere on the grounds."

"What about Cerebro? Did you check with that?"

"Of course I checked with Cerebro. He's gone. I can't find him anywhere, which means he doesn't want to be found."

Logan ran his hands through hishair. "He's gone? Completely vanished? Not even a few breadcrumbs? Peter Maximoff, the student we promised to help after the shitshow that went down last year, is missing and you come in here as if you mislaced a pen?" Anger pulsed through Logan's veins. The skin on his knuckles pricked and started to bleed as his claws slowly pushed forwards. 

"Listen, I have an idea in regards to his whereabouts. You're not going to like it, but it's a clue." Logan just glared at Charles, a silent command to get on with it. "The only other person who can avoid Cerebro is Erik, so that's most likely who Peter is with."

"Erik Lensherr? The one who convinces young mutants, like Peter, to murder humans?"

"Erik won't hurt Peter. He feels indebted to him from the Pentagon break. Peter's probably in the second safest place for him. If he really wants to be with Eik, we don't have the authority to tell him otherwise."

"Hire a substitute. I'm going after him."

"I know you feel guilty, but you're not the right person to do that. He left because of you, he won't want to see you."

"He left because of me? How would you know that?"

"I'm a telepath and Peter thinks very loudly. I know about your relationship. I know that he's very hurt because of what happened. He's lonely, he feels rejected, so he went to the person who he truly believes will accept him."

"Why would he feel that way about Erik?"

"They have a more complicated relationship than you realize. Not the same type of complicated you're experiancing, but complicated nonetheless."

Logan squeezed his eyes shurt and his chest heaved deeply. This was ridiculous. How could Peter be so stupid? Sure, Erik wasn't all bad. Even so, Peter was ... an aquired taste to put it politely. The chances of everybody Erik surrounded himself with being patient enough to deal with Peter were slim. The thought of somebody hurting Peter, even just snapping at him for being too fast, had Logan's heart siezing like an epileptic. He wanted Peter home, now. In his sight, less than a few minutes walk, where Logan could look after him. 

Charles sighed quietly. "I'll hire a substitute. Gather your things. You can use anything you need. Just promise me you won't do anything stupid." With a solemn nod, Logan realized exactly how kind Charles was being in the situation. He gave his thanks before walking around Charles to the door. "Oh, and Logan?" He turned back to face the other man. "We still need to have a very serious discussion about you getting involved with a student."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the encouraging comments! It's what really keeps this story going. 
> 
> I also apologize for any wrong characterization, especially with some of the new characters. I need some assholes, so I just picked some supervillains.
> 
> As always, let me know if you have any criticisms, questions, or suggestions! Especially if you have any suggestions for how to improve my writing.

Being with Erik and his "brotherhood" wasn't exactly ideal. Peter was never sure who was going to try to kill him, or when he was going to get arrested. Mostly, though, Peter was just bored and lonely. 

Erik was nice and all. He did the best he could. He tried to be patient, but he wasn't Hank. He tried to keep Peter safe, but he wasn't Charles. Erik was afraid of (other) people taking advantage of Peter's powers, so he asked him to hide it. Which meant that Peter always had to go S L O W. Erik meant well, but he didn't really understand Peter. 

So he had Peter pretend to be his non-mutant son. 

And wasn't that a kick in the balls?

Contrary to popular belief, Peter wasn't an idiot. He knew by the way Erik smiled, like a shark, like Peter. Peter could tell by the way his mom went pale when she saw Erik on the t.v. and the way she held Peter in her arms one night when she was drunk and whispered "Your daddy can move metal. Your daddy's a hurricane, just like you." He wasn't really sure what that meant, but it sounded awesome when he was seven. 

Peter knew, and Erik didn't, and that became acutely aware to every time Erik introduced him as "my son." He hated the way that calling Erik "Dad" felt so natural. He hated the way Erik's friends would comment about what a disappointment Peter was. Mostly, he hated the way Erik stood up for him. Every. Damn. Time. 

"All I'm saying is that if I had a human child, I'd never own up to it," Jason Wyngarde commented from his seat on the couch. Peter pretended he couldn't hear him as he wandered idly around the room. They were in Erik's apartment, which was probably the most expensive place Peter had ever been in. Peter had been staying there for a few weeks now, but it never really felt like home. Mostly because he was still sleeping on the couch. 

"Peter needed me. He's my own flesh and blood. I'd never desert him. " Erik sent a friendly wink towards Peter and tapped his wine glass twice. Refill. 

Peter gulped and grabbed the mostly empty wine bottle before heading over. 

Frederick Dukes laughed from where he was squished into an armchair. "At least having a human aorund is good for something. Why don't you bring me another beer, toots?"

Rage swelled in Peter like a balloon. His eyes met Erik's in a silent warning. "Pete. Don't," he muttered in an almost monotone voice. 

That was permission enough for Peter. 

He broke the bottom off the wine bottle on the edge of the table and ran (slowly) across the room. "I'm not your foxy little maid. I'm not your slave. I could kill you in a heartbeat. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't even have time to beg me to stop before you'd be one. Do you understand that?" Peter growled. He swiped the jagged edge of the wine bottle against Frederick's flabby chest. 

"His skin won't tear, it's too thick," Azazel remarked from the corner. 

Peter's mind raced. Skin won't tear, huh? That limitted the options, but it certainly wouldn't shut down the operation. "I could tear your skin with my bare hands!" he snapped. Frederick laughed, his mouth wide open like a bull's eye. Peter saw his opportunity and lunged, the sharp edge of the glass aimed at the unprotected flesh. 

In a moment, all Hell broke loose. Azazel teleported next to Peter and knocked off his aim. Frederick hauled himself to his feet and wrapped a meaty hand around Peter's neck. Peter was on the floor, pinned under his blubbery body and gasping for air before he could blink. 

"Get off of me, you... disgusting blob!" he panted. 

"Please, don't squash my son to death." Erik grinned. "Blob, huh? It fits." 

"Remind me again why I shouldn't pop your kid's skull like a pimple, Erik? It feels pretty tempting." Frederick pressed his hands on either side of Peter's head and began to squeeze. 

"Because if you do, I'll tear you apart using the iron in your blood. Now, get off." Erik took a sip of his wine, a dangerous look clouded his eyes. 

Frederick seemed to catch on and maneuvered off of Peter. "Good thing Daddy was here to save you this time."

"I'll always bet there to save him," Erik responded cockily. 

****

"I'm sick of pretending not to have powers. I joined your dumb fraternity so I wouldn't have to do that." Peter shifted a bit too quickly. "Ouch, damnit. Can't you wrap my ribs or something?"

He sat on Erik's bed while the older man moved fluidly around the room. His chest ached with every breath in. According to Erik, his ribs were bruised. It made Peter a bit nostalgic, brought him back to when he was little and couldn't stop himself from running into walls. 

"We don't wrap ribs anymore. We're just going to ice them. Every hour, you need to take the deepest breath you can. Is the ice helping?"

"Yeah, it's good, Dad."

Peter froze. It had slipped out so easily, so naturally. He didnt' even realize he had said anything wrong until he noticed the muscles in Erik's back tese. Was this it? Did he finally drop the straw that would break the camel's back? Was Erik gonna kick him to the curb?

"You don't have to call me that when we're alone. In fact, I'd prefer if you didn't," Erik snapped. 

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I'd never call you Dad. Well, not on purpose. Haha, like, can you imagine that? You? As my dad? Yikes, what a disaster!"

"I get it, Peter."

"I'm just saying that like, you wouldn't be my dad. I mean, I don't have one. But if I did, he sure wouldn't be you."

"Peter."

"I mean, I don't know anything about my dad. All I know is that he's not you."

"Peter, stop."

"Yeah, you'd never be my dad. Not ever. Not even in a parallel universe."

"Shut up!" Erik toward over him, his eyes dark and intimidating. Peter's metal necklace tightened around his neck, the ringlets of his boots began to dig into his feet. Frantically, he kicked his legs and gaged, watching Erik carefully the whole time. The metal released just as quickly as it had tightened. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" Erik muttered. 

"It's fine. I'm not hurt. I get it. I don't know when to stop. It's cool, dude. Don't even sweat it."

"I regret hurting you. Let's check your ribs, hmm?" Erik sat next to Peter on the bed and placed on hand between his shoulder blades and the other in the center of his chest. "Is this alright? I can't tell if they're broken, you'll have to sleep in my bed tonight and I'll take the couch." He shifted a bit, pulled Peter closer into what could almost be called a hug. "Breathe in. No, deeper. C'mon, you can do better than that. There we go. Do it again." 

Peter smiled and hated himself for it. He loved the way Erik looked after him. He loved that he felt like a normal boy with his normal dad. 

Oh, yes. Peter was incredibly lonely.


	8. Chapter Eight

It wasn't news that Peter generally wasn't good at following rules. He had been doing pretty well since moving in with Erik, enough so that he thought he'd officially changed. But, in typical Peter fashion, he fucked that up too. 

He'd been brought along to break a few mutants out of the county jail, no big deal, right? Erik never even offered to explain why he so adamently wanted Peter to come with to his croonies. So, technically this was all Erik's fault. Not Peter's. He'd like that on record. He'd been minding his own business, following the rules like he was supposed when he saw some shithead cop shoot at Erik's back. Initially, he didn't worry. Erk would just flip it's trajectory and they'd all go about their merry way. That was when Peter noticed how preoccupied Erik was with disarming the cops that were actually within his line of sight. Before any of their "teammates" could even register the situation and warn Erik, Peter was between him and the gun. Taking his time, Peter pushed the bullet to side and aimed it just right to take out the cop in Erik's way. Maybe all of Hank's dumb babbling about physics wasn't quite so dumb afterall. 

"Jesus Christ. Erik, he has powers? Why didn't you tell us?" Jason Wyngarde, who Peter had taken to calling "Mastermind" deminded. It wasn't that Peter thought it was a cool nickname or anything (which it absolutely was NOT) but more that Jason seemed upset that Peter was calling Frederick "Blob" and Erik had become "Magneto." Jason hated to be left out, which Peter understood. He could indulge something as stupid as a nickname if it would keep things running smoothly. 

Not that any of that mattered now that he'd let the cat out of the bag. 

The minute Peter realized what he'd done, he'd frozen in place. He stayed pinned beneath Erik's gaze, terrified of what sort of reprecussions could come from a slip up as big as this. Damnit, what was that glint in Erik's eyes supposed to mean? Was he mad? Was he furious? Should Peter try apologizing, or would it be better to run to the other side of the world now rather than take his chances with an angry Magneto?

Then Erik's face cracked into that venemous smile. "Excellent move, Peter."

Peter couldn't stom himself from mirroring his grin. "Why, thanks Pops! Jail breaks are kinda my thing."

"Erik. Talk to me. Now!" Jason marched over, his mouth gaping in anger and surprise.

Instead of responding, Erik physically pushed him to the side and poked his head down a hallway. "Blob! Hurry it up, I have to give you guys a little family history back at my place!"

**

Most of the released mutants refused to joing Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants, which Peter blamed on the stupid name. Why would anybody join a team named something like that? Only three decided to stick around in the end. Peter thought it'd be cool to hang out with Todd Tolansky, considering they weren't too far apart in age. The minute he sat down next to the guy though, any ideas of friendship fanished. He smelled like a swampy ass. Peter wasn't really sure what a "swampy ass" was, but Todd smelled like one.

Erik, Jason, Blob, and Azaxel were still locked up in Erik's office. Occasionally, their angered shouting could be heard in the kitchen, but Peter figured Erik could hold his own. Either way, Peter was left to entertain the new guests. 

The one with the thick southern accent, Remy, was nice enough, but Victor Creed gave Peter the creeps. He leaned too far over the counter, his eyes lingered on Peter's body far too long. Peter could recognize lust, especially when it was practically dripping off of Victor. 

"Anyone want a beer?" he asked in an attempt to break the tension. It wasn't really a question Peter needed answered. Between the three of them, they'd pracically drank place dry. Todd could barely stay upright in his chair, but Victor and Remy seemed unaffected. 

As Peter placed the beer bottles in front of them, Erik's office door slammed open. Azazel stormed out the front dor, Blob waddling close behind him. Erik and Jason eventually joined the others in the kitchen, both looking stressed. Peter slid two beer bottles in front of them. 

"I told you to entertain them, not intoxicate them. Who taught you how to socialize?" Erik asked Peter. 

"My mom always said that drunk men are easier to control." Peter gestured over to Todd right as he tumbled to the floor. 

Erik paused. "Your mother said that?" he asked. 

"Yep. Every time she had a man over." Peter grinned to himself. Maybe he could break it to Erik nice and slow. One piece of information at a time. "So, what just happened?" 

"Those two weren't too happy about being lied to. I can't say I'm thrilled either, but I'm still going to stay with the Brotherhood," Jason explained. He aimed a pointed look at Peter. "So, you're fast. How fast?"

"You know, I've never really measured. I've blown out every speedometer that's powerful enough to register me. Most don't. That bulled moved like a snal, if that gives you a frame of reference."

"How do you turn it on?" Jason asked. 

"I don't. It's always on. I'm always swimming through molasses."

"Well, you're a whole lot more impressive than you seem to be at first glance," Remy drawled with a grin. 

"Are you saying I don't look like the classic American hero that I am?"

"You look perfect to me," Victor added with a wink. 

Both Peter and Erik stiffened with the same unease. Peter looked at Erik pleadingly and jerked his head in Victor's direction. Erik nodded to him shortly. "Victor, I'd like to inform you that Peter is, in fact, my son. Which means if you continue to make advances towars him, I will take it personally. And I'd hate to do something rash in my fit of protective rage."

Victor nodded solemnly. "Got it. NOthing he doesn't want."

"No. Nothing at all. I don't think Peter's old enough to have a relationship."

"Woah. What? Dude, I'm 19. You were my age when I was born!"

Erik patted Peter's shoulder. "Exactly my point. Now, go to bed. The grown-ups need to talk." Peter thought about arguing, but oddly enough Erik's cold gaze was convincing enough. 

Everyone in the room sat in silence. Erik waited to hear the bedroom door close. Then the creak of the pull out bed as Peter yanked it into place and dropped onto it. Erik rolled his eyes. That dumb kid never bothered to change into his pajamas before going to bed. Which was especially stupid because Erik bought him several pairs just to make sure he could sleep comfortably. He waited patiently until the rustling around stopped, signifying Peter was asleep. The kid couldn't sit still until he was completely unconcious.

"Alright. It's important for you all to understant that I love Peter. He is the most important person in my life." Erik couldn't bring himself to hate the way that sounded. "I want to give my mutant son a safe place where he can live freely. I want him to flaunt his powers without fear.

Now, obviously, our world isn't ready for that. I propose starting over in a new city. A promised land, for us mutants. It won't be too difficult, as long as we do everything by the books. We start by taking over, say, Saratoga Springs. Then we expand to Saratoga county. Eventually, the entire state of New York. We just need to take it slow."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I kinda forgot about this story? I really want to finish it, so that will happen eventually (probably pretty slowly, but eventually). 
> 
> I'm working on some stuff in my real life right now, moving to a new country for a year (that'll be interesting) and trying to get a novel of my own work published so this was really pushed to the backburner. Regardless, I wanna get it done so I'm gonna try and finish before I move, which is in August, so buckle in. 
> 
> ALSO I Really want to improve my writing, specifically my pacing? I feel like some of my sentences get too long. Which is fine for description (sometimes), but not for action or anything. So if you think of ANYTHING that could help me out, please phrase it kindly in the comments! I'd really appreciate it.   
> P.S. I just read over all the old chapters and there are so many typos?? I'll try to be better about that, my bad.

Victor proved himself to be more and more of a problem. He hung over Peter like a shadow whenever Erik wasn't around, his hot breath making Peter feel sticky while he said something about Peter's body. He was a little too handsy for Peter's taste. Without any warning or prior discussion, he would casually slip his arms around Peter's waist or dance his fingers up his thigh. It made Peter always on edge, jumping at any sort of unannounced contact. 

But Victor also knew what he was doing, and he knew how to hide his actions from Erik. Once, Peter had woken up early to talk to Erik before anybody else was up. "Um, we've gotta talk about Victor," he said. 

Erik looked at him in surprise over his steaming mug of coffee. "Go ahead."

"I don't like him," Peter said. 

"Why not?"

"He makes me uncomfortable?"

"How so?"

"He just... pays a lot of attention to me. Sometimes when I don't want him to." 

Erik sighed and put his hand on Peter's shoulder comfortingly. Fatherly, almost. Peter decided not to think too hard about it. "You're one of the most powerful mutants alive today, you're my son, and you're young. Lots of people are going to be paying lots of attention to you because of those things. Try not to let it bother you, alright?"

Peter was frozen in place. "You said I'm you're son." Did Erik know? Did Peter start sleep talking? What if Erik knew the whole time? His hands started shaking. This was it, this was his Dad right there in front of him. 

"Sorry, slip of the tongue. It's becoming a habit, I suppose." Erik smiled a bit to emphasize his apology. Peter wished he'd never brought it up. 

Later that day, Erik and the others went out to do whatever the Brotherhood does, leaving Peter and Victor alone in the house. Peter tried to avoid him mainly, busying himself with a one v none game of ping pong. Victor just sat in the rec room watching him, drinking a gin and tonic and licking his lips if Peter bent over too far to hit the ball. His skin felt like it was crawling, like every movement of Victor's eyes left a mark on his body. He followed Erik's advice, tried not to let it bother him. But Victor wasn't making it very easy. 

"Aren't you tired yet?" he asked. Peter just shook his head. "Why don't you come sit next to me?" The ball almost hit the floor by the time Peter smacked it back into play. He pretended like he hadn't heard Victor at all and kept playing. A large hand wrapped around his neck and held him in place. The ping pong ball hit the floor on the other side of the table. Claws started digging into Peter's skin, and all he could think of was Logan. 

"Try to get away before I kill you. You can't, can you?" His voice echoed in Peter's head and he wanted to cry. He should've paid more attention in class, should've paid more attention to Logan in general. As he was dragged over to the couch, Peter couldn't help but feel like this was all a really elaborate "Stay In School" PSA. Victor's hands crawled all over his body and he knew that if Logan were here Victor would already be dead. 

His gasp caught himself off guard. He didn't mean to react as if he liked it, it was just that Victor had brushed his thumb over the back of Peter's knee in a way that only Logan ever had before. When Victor kissed him, he noticed that they smelled just a little alike. Peter realized then how lonely he was. His legs wrapped around Victor's hips and locked in place and he kissed back excitedly. He was able to convince himself that this was Logan, not Victor. Those grunts and moans sounded like Logan, that stubble felt like Logan's. 

The main difference was that Logan was overall nicer. He complimented Peter's legs and stopped leaving hickeys on his neck to kiss his earlobe tenderly. Victor apparently forgot that he had lips in general. His foreplay was more pushing Peter into place than it was trying to get him worked up. 

But hey, what works works. Maybe Peter could convince himself Victor was Logan for awhile. Maybe he could make this work. Maybe he shoved his fist into his own mouth to stop himself from screaming the wrong name. 

**********************

Erik got home when Peter was just getting out of the shower. He could hear the water stopping in the room above him as he went into the kitchen. "How did it go with Peter today?" he asked Victor, who was making two ham and cheese sandwiches, one with mayo. "That for him?" Erik wondered if it was weird for him to know exactly how Peter preferred his sandwiches. He was pretending to be his dad, he had to know all the things a dad would know. But he wasn't really his father, so where should he draw the line. 

"Yeah. I think I finally got through to him. We bonded." The grin didn't escape Erik's notice. 

"Did you fuck my son?" he asked. He probably could have gone about that better, been a little less blunt. Oh well. It was too late now to do anything about that. Victor didn't answer. That wasn't a good decision to make. The knife in his hand rattled and the tip placed it's over his little finger. "Don't make me do anything rash," Erik warned. 

"He liked it. Do you want the details? He was begging for more, Erik. You're kid's-"

"Regardless of your relationship status, you're never allowed to speak about my son like that. Ever. To anybody. Don't think I won't find out if you do, because I will." Erik stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to ruin it if Peter was starting a relationship, but that didn't stop the discomfort from growing in his chest like a weed. Grabbing the sandwich, he went up the stairs to talk to Peter. 

He knocked on the door to what had started off as a den but had been converted into Peter's bedroom. The younger man was sitting on the edge of his bed, a shirt that was too big hanging off of his shoulder and his eyes staring blankly at the floor. He looked up at Erik and forced a lopsided smile. "Welcome home. How'd whatever secret thing you were doing go?" Erik could see him scrambling to put himself back together, to be annoying and energetic and normal. 

"We've gotta talk about Victor," he said. 

Peter laughed and shook his head. "We already did though. I tried not to let it bother to me today and things went better. Why?" He was clearly avoiding eye contact. "Did he complain about something? I wasn't very nice to him, I'm sorry." 

"No, he didn't complain. Quite the opposite, actually. He mentioned that uh, the nature of your interactions with him changed today." Erik stood by the door but held out the sandwich to Peter. It would've been too overbearing if he sat on the bed beside Peter, he felt. Even if it looked like Peter was way too small for the room. 

"Oh." Peter's ears were bright red and he looked like he was going to sink into the floor. Shame and guilt was evident all over his face in a way that made Erik oddly furious. 

"Was it... Where you... Was he... Were you safe?" Erik did NOT stutter. He hadn't tripped over his words since he was a little boy, but looking at Peter made him feel helpless again. 

"He used a condom."

"That's not what I asked."

Peter's eyebrows knit together and he pushed out a sigh. His arms curled closer around his body as he rocked himself a little bit. Without warning, he shot to his feet. "I've gotta, uh, I still need to get my run in today. Do you mind if I? Excuse me." He nudged past Erik and then was gone. 

Over the next few weeks, Erik grew to hate Victor. A lot. The man was unafraid to show off Peter, which could have been sweet if he did it without disrespecting him. When Peter tried to squeeze by him during a meeting, Victor would let his hands run all over his body. He was constantly manhandling Peter and winking to the others. Like a spoiled brat who just got a really well behaved dog for Christmas. Erik felt five years get taken off his life every time he walked into a room to find Peter backed up against a wall. 

Then, one day, Victor wasn't there. They sat down to discuss future plans and the seat beside Peter was empty. "Where's Victor?" Todd asked. 

"I'm afraid that he and I had a falling out the other night. He won't be joining us any longer. It turns out that his idea of a brighter future is different than mine," Erik said calmly. Everybody else nodded along and focused on what needed to be discussed, but Erik watched Peter's entire body relax out of the corner of his eyes. For the first time since Victor showed up, Peter seemed more like himself again. 

"Thanks," he whispered, just loud enough for Erik to hear. He placed his hand on Peter's arm and gave a little squeeze. 

"I should've listened to you earlier." 

Peter looked at him in disbelief. Apparently Erik had never owned up to any of his mistakes before, which was probably deeply rooted in a bigger problem that he decided not to think about. When Peter looked at him, Erik could feel that Peter was actually proud of him for being able to acknowledge his flaws. Oddly enough, it was that that made it impossible for Erik to hide his smile. 

After the meeting, he and Peter hung back while everyone else left. He poured two glasses of whiskey, and he slid one over to Peter. "I'm not old enough," Peter said. 

"I'm not carding you." They clinked their glasses together and drank. Erik tried not to notice that Peter didn't really react to the taste. He didn't know Peter that well, how was he supposed to know if the kid was a hardcore alcoholic or not? "Peter I just want you to know that I'm starting to truly see you as a son. You're a good kid, a damn good mutant too. You never cease to impress me. I don't mind being your fake dad." It was harder to say to Peter than it was to himself in the mirror, and maybe he left out some of the sappier parts he'd meant to add. But he said it. 

Peter looked into his drink as if it would give him the answers he was looking for. "Boy are you gonna be thrilled when I tell you this," he said before pouring Erik another glass.


End file.
